


A Young Orphan

by Noriaki_Darby



Series: Chun Xin Tabris [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Adoption, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noriaki_Darby/pseuds/Noriaki_Darby
Summary: Cyrion and Adaia, eager to raise a child, decide to adopt from the Alienage orphanage. The choices were wide, but only one has struck them.





	A Young Orphan

**Author's Note:**

> A short backstory for my City Elf Warden, who is ethnically Chinese. Due to the majority of the characters in Dragon Age, including the City Elf's own family, not being Asian, I thought it would be necessary to provide a bit of a backstory on why his race is different from his family.

It was quiet, but outside was not, as usual. When the sun shine brightly through the windows, the orphanage would always be filled with noises of little feet scampering across the wooden floors and the shouts of playful children.

But inside of his own room, with only a scroll rolled out across a desk surface, and a lit candle, it was just enough. The other children never looked down on him or anything, but he did know that he’s different from the other elves in the Alienage, it was more on the lines of never having the motivation to play with them. He wasn’t sure what the reason was, but he didn’t put much thought into it.

He heard the main entrance open, followed by footsteps, they were heavy, like an adult’s. Two adults, actually. Then another similarly heavy footsteps was heading to the entrance, the caretaker’s.

There was muffled talking, but with the emptiness with the room and how thin the walls were, it was quite easy to hear what they were saying.

“Cyrion and Adaia Tabris!” Caretaker Ierda’s soft voice sounded gleeful to meet the two. He was familiar with those names, as they were supposed to be the wealthiest of the elves in the Alienage, earning them a shaky reputation. “What brings you here today?”

“Good afternoon Ierda. My husband and I are here because… we have been thinking,” another woman’s voice said. “It is about time we raise a child.”

The last voice, a man’s, spoke up. “Birthing one would’ve been an option,” he said. “But the time and investment would render us having less than enough to live in the long term. Taking in an orphan and raising one however, is a more considerable. Surely there are plenty of children here who are in a need of a family.”

“Very well,” Caretaker Ierda said. “I will show you around and hopefully you’ll be able to find a child you desire.”

And the footsteps came closer, but past his room, and further down the corridor. He somewhat thought they would open the door to his chamber, since it was one of the rooms more closer to the entrance. But he quickly resumed back to his reading once it drowned into the crowd of children playing.

\----

The door burst open, startling him. He looked over his shoulder to see a girl rushing in, screaming.

“Alena! Come back here!” another girl chased after her, she had a wicked sneer on her face as she held a fork high as if she was going to stab her.

“Stop!” Alena wailed, cowering by the bunk beds. “Don’t hurt me!”

“Kyre, you stop that, right now!” Caretaker Ierda came into the room, arms reached out to grab the girl before she could sink the fork down Alena’s skin.

At the door there stood the visitors, all shocked but were smiling at the site.

Caretaker Ierda turned to face them, her grip locked strongly onto the squirming girl. “My apologies, this doesn’t happen that often.”

“No worries,” The man chuckled. Alena stayed where she was, tears were prickling out of her eyes. Kyre eventually stopped kicking and screaming and her face contorted into a grimace.

The man quickly surveyed the room, and that’s when their eyes met. They stared a bit at each other. He wasn’t sure whether to look away and back to his scrolls, or to say something. The man then turned to Caretaker Ierda. “Ierda, I don’t think you introduced me to this one yet.”

She turned to face him. And suddenly, everyone’s attention was on him, he felt his body tense up.

“Oh,” she gently released her grip of Kyre, who just stood where she is with the angered look intact before running out of the room. “He’s an unusual child...to begin with.”

The man entered and a woman followed. He was around average elf height, thin, quite pale, his face was beginning to wrinkle, brown hair but with a few grey hairs. The woman was a bit shorter, and a more darker complex, her hair was a slightly lighter shade, almost matching her skin.

He hesitantly stood up from his chair, hands hidden behind his back, and looking at the ground. “He was sent in here just a few months ago after human guards found him at the Denerim gate,” Caretaker Ierda continued as the two approached him, soon they were both standing in front of him. “Nobody knew where he came from or where or who his parents were. He only had a pack of rolled up papers and books with them, but none of us were able to read or decipher the text. We allowed him to keep it in hopes that it’ll give him something to remember his parents with.”

He recognized the words in those scrolls, but didn’t know what the common tongue equivalents were. He always knew he was different from everyone else; silky black hair, face round and soft, almond shaped eyes surrounded by dark blue tattoos resembling the shape of a butterfly. The overall appearance almost made him look like a porcelain doll. 

“Does he have a name?” The woman said.

“It’s hard for us to pronounce it, and when I asked him to write it down, it was in a language I couldn’t recognize. He does seem to have an understanding in the common tongue, I believe.”

“Perhaps if we can get the boy to speak with us,” The man knelt down and his face was in front of his own. “Little one, may I ask for your name?”

Somebody’s talking to him, this should’ve been normal, but with the long hours to days of being alone in his room, it still felt new. Eyes shifting away, hands clenching tightly, he opened his mouth. “Ch-Chu…” a weak and cracky noise came out.

Everyone was still silent, they’re being patient with him.

“Chun… Xin…”

“Chun Xin,” the man repeated, calmly. His name was butchered, but knowing that it came from foreign tongue, it was inevitable. “Chun Xin,” he said again, slightly better than the last time. “Do you long for a family?”

Chun Xin’s eyes turned to meet the man’s, lips pursed at the thought. “I don’t… I-I don’t remember what it feels… to have one.”

“Do you not remember your last family?”

He shook his head.

“What about those papers you were reading? What were they about?”

“I think they were stories. Poems too.”

“I see,” the man rose to his feet with a smile. “Care to share?”

Chun Xin nodded and went to the desk where the scroll laid. The yellowed paper was slightly ripped around the edges, the scent of black paint stroked on the surface was faint. He took the paper off of the desk and turned to face the group. He read out what each symbol meant one by one. Unsure what they meant, only knew what sound accompanied them. He knew it was some kind of poetry. When he was done, there was a long pause, the adults didn’t seem to be sure if he was finished or not. So he rolled up the paper to indicate that.

“I haven’t heard of this language either,” the woman muttered. “Could it be possible that he’s not from Ferelden?”

“Possibly,” Caretaker Ierda said. “In fact, it could be possible that he’s not from Thedas altogether.”

Chun Xin blankly stared at them all, unsure what to say. They were discussing about him as if he was an experiment or a recently discovered object. If only he could provide an answer on where he really came from, but nothing came up. Other children had stories of how their parents died, or how they were abandoned. But Chun Xin wasn’t so sure if the case was either of those, with the additional mystery of the language he could read, and the possibility of him being from out of the country. It brought nothing but trouble for him.

“Cyrion?” The woman turned to look at the man. 

Cyrion looked at the woman, then at Caretaker Ierda. “I’ve decided,” he turned at Chun Xin, placing a hand on his shoulder with a warm smile. “We should take Chun Xin as our son.”

“Cyrion, are you sure?” the woman said, placing a hand on his shoulder with a solemn look on her face. “Perhaps we should double check the other children before deciding which one to raise.”

“I’ve made up my mind Adaia,” Cyrion kept smiling. “I believe this boy has potential, he’ll grow up to be a strong man.”

Adaia rose an eyebrow. “I suppose. Very well then,” she turned to Caretaker Ierda. “Where can we sign the adoption papers?”

Chun Xin still remained quiet. Here he is, about to be adopted? By a pair who made the decision so abruptly? He never remembered having any family prior to waking up alone at the outskirts of Denerim. Although, the two seemed to be quite caring people, maybe he’ll be happy to settle down with them.

“This way please,” Caretaker Ierda beckoned them to follow out of the room. Adaia followed her, Cyrion moved his hand to his back to get him to walk.

\----

They were in the conference room, with a table in the middle and the shelves at the walls with files sorted in them. Caretaker Ierda had the papers scattered out across the table. Both Cyrion and Adaia were taking their time reading through them. Chun Xin sat on the side of the table, feet not touching the floor, watching the pair’s eyes shift as they read, lost in his thoughts. The pack of all of the books and papers were set near him, along with the clothes he kept in his drawers. There was a cloth pouch full of coins set at the side of the papers. The sayings of the pair being rich were true after all, he may not know how much is in there, but the sound of the impact when it landed on the table said enough.

“You’re getting adopted?” A young girl’s voice said, Chun Xin turned to see Alena, standing in front of him. He forgot she was in the room when Cyrion and Adaia came in.

“Yes,” he said.

“You’re so lucky,” she pouted. “I wish I could have someone adopt me.”

“Maybe someday.”

“I’m going to miss you. You were always quiet, but it’ll be different without you around.”

“I-it’s okay, you can always visit us.”

Alena grinned. “Okay! See you later then!” and she ran off, into the corridor.

“And we are set!” Caretaker Ierda clapped her hands together with glee. “Thank you very much for visiting!”

Cyrion extended a hand forward to shake her hand. “Thank you.”

Caretaker Ierda then shook Adaia’s hand as Cyrion bent down to grab the pack containing all of Chun Xin’s possessions. “Well, Chun Xin,” he slung the pack over his shoulder and grinned at the boy. “From now on, you’re our son!”

And then he smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to write more fics about my Warden in the future, this is only the start.


End file.
